Magic awry
by heggyy
Summary: A one off fanfiction about Ron and Hermione after the Battle of Hogwarts. All may seem well for Hermione but has the Battle left more lasting damage...?


Prompts:

3: Change

6: Luscious

15: Jitterbug

* * *

"Wow." Ron, who usually preferred to remain indifferent, gasped.

"It's amazing isn't it?" Hermione said, glancing up at him.

Ron just shook his head. "I've never seen anything like it."

Below them, stretched out for miles, was a perfect sandy beach, with turquoise rolling waves and rich green palm trees. The cove was sheltered with swooping cliffs and twisting footpaths. Black mouths of caves broke the smooth rock, and there was a therapeutic sound of waves hitting the beach with the caw of seagulls was relaxing.

They walked down the narrow winding coastal path to the beach, and took off their shoes so the soft sand could slip between their toes. They ambled just where the waves and the sand met, so the water cooled their hot sweaty feet. When they reached the shade of the luscious palm trees clustered at the edge of the beach they sank down in the sand, and Hermione got out two flasks of crystal cold pumpkin juice from her picnic bag – she was still as organised as ever. They sipped them thirstily; they had been wandering the coast for a couple of hours, and their breakfast at the tiny cottage hotel seemed hours ago. Ron, who was a jitterbug at the best of times, lay still, and Hermione lazily plaited a palm leaf. It was all so relaxing.

Hermione could hardly believe how different this was to just a few months back. She still had the scars to prove it. As if sensing her worry, Ron sat up and kissed her gently.

"It's alright. We're safe now."

Hermione leaned forward and kissed him back, gritty sand getting between their lips, the taste of salt water on her tongue. She gently touched the scar on Ron's forehead. He winced a little.

"Sorry." She murmured. Ron smiled.

"Don't be."

They lay back down, so close they were a tangle of limbs, and watched fluffy white clouds float by.

When it was too hot to bear, Hermione pulled off her white sundress and pulled Ron into the water. They swam out to a jutting out rock and sat basking in the heat, slipping back into the water whenever they felt too hot.

"I can't believe how perfect this is." Ron said, pulling himself deftly out of the water and next to Hermione.

"Me neither _husband_." Hermione said, stressing the word husband. She still hadn't got used to saying it, even though they had been married for nearly two months.

It was Hermione who had suggested they get married. After the Battle of Hogwarts, everything had been so grim. There was death and loss everywhere they looked, and though the ministry was finally back under control, it was still chaos. And finally Hermione had enough and said they should just get married. Molly was over the moon, and although the ceremony was low key it was a joyous occasion, with bouquets of pink sweet peas and honeysuckle. Hermione wore a simple white summer dress, and Ron one of Fred's old suits. Days before the wedding Hermione had found him sobbing into the shirt.

And then, moments before they were due to say their vows, Hermione's parents stumbled into the marquee, and Hermione screamed with delight. Just a year before she had sent them to Australia and brainwashed them to make them forget she was their daughter, and still had not gone back to try and repair the damage done; she was still afraid of them getting hurt. But, as Charlie and Percy explained, they had traced them to a small farm in Australia and undid the spell. Hermione was sobbing with happiness, hugging them and trying to catch up all they had missed. They were just confused and spent most of the wedding trying to work out what had happened. But Hermione had agreed when Arthur and Molly sat her down and gently told her that she would have to keep the last year secret.

After the wedding, festivities went long into the night. Everyone had come for at least a bit; even Professor McGonagall, in some bottle green tartan robes and Teddy Lupin, until he fell asleep under a table and was carried off to bed. There was dancing and food and music. Although money was tight, everyone had scrubbed up, and Hermione remembered laughing when Ginny got Harry into a tuxedo that matched her purple dress, and staring into Ron's eyes as they danced the first dance.

And instead of sticking around after the wedding, Hermione planned a honeymoon to New Zealand. A change was good for both of them and it was with great excitement they left the Burrow and embarked on their holiday.

The sun was setting with fiery colours, and they swam leisurely back to the shore, pulling their clothes on when the warm air had dried their bodies. Then they headed to the tiny wood cabin that they had booked out for the week.

One of the reasons Hermione had chosen the coast of New Zealand was its remote location. She doubted there were any wizards or witches in the area, and the nearest town was ten miles away. Ron and Hermione had agreed not to use magic unless of an emergency, and Hermione was enjoying the peace. She didn't want to say this to Ron, but she was wary of magic now she had seen the damage it did. Instead she made up excuses for not using magic and doing it the Muggle way or just left her wand by her bed in the morning. She had stopped drinking the potion she had been prescribed for her injuries, and it had been a long time since she had studied her books, like she spent many happy hours at Hogwarts doing.

Ron cooked dinner – he had found a love for cooking - while Hermione read a Muggle detective story her Dad had leant her (her love had books hadn't disappeared, even if her love magic had). An hour later they were enjoying silverfish with grilled potato; a New Zealand special, Ron assured her. Then there was raspberry ice cream and a bottle of fire whisky. When the meal had been washed up (by hand, much to Ron's frustration) they sat on the wooden porch, watching the stars.

The week passed quickly, with long rambling walks in the heat, and boat trips to the little coves. The cabin had come with a tiny rowing boat called the 'Not All Are Lost'. Hermione thought it so romantic, and one night they packed a picnic and rowed out to the middle of the cove and kissed passionately.

They saw no one while they were there, and no planes crossed the sky. The air was fresh and fragrant with the smell of fruit; there was a curious tree which bore the sweetest berries. Ron had already baked them into a cake and a pie, and both were delicious, though they still hadn't managed to identify them. Hermione's skin bronzed, but because of Ron's pale complexion every morning he had to paste sun cream onto his skin, and still his skin burnt and peeled.

Finally the last day arrived, and they packed up their stuff and said goodbye to the little cabin and the boat, the cove and the fruit tree. Then they walked the ten miles to the village, where they caught the only bus that left that week, which took them to a larger town, where they caught a train which took them to an airport. They were exhausted by the time they got on the plane, and spent the entirety of the long flight home asleep, their hands interlocked. The plane landed and Hermione forced herself to stand up and robotically moved towards the aeroplane door. She didn't want to step back out under the stormy sky, where magic was wry and human lives were so fragile. She wanted to be back at the cove, with its magical stars and breathtaking sunsets. Ron came up behind her and took her hand.

"Ready?" He said, like he knew what she was thinking.

She nodded, and together they walked off the plane.


End file.
